


Bucket Receptacle

by joaniedark



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Buckets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joaniedark/pseuds/joaniedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quick flash fiction based on a piece of artwork.</p><p>Dave finds himself enjoying some of the aspects of the trolls' black quadrant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bucket Receptacle

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this picture: http://zedabbling.tumblr.com/post/13856190571/sumomomochi-filialpail-lets-just-assume  
> Even though apparently the person it was drawn for was going to write something.  
> Hey, can't have too many kink fics.

_Fuck_ if Makara was not one of the most amazing lays Dave had ever had.

It wasn’t that he was so amazingly hot or skilled or anything like that…not that he wasn’t those things, mind you.

But it was the sheer, raw, hateful passion that really got to Dave.

He loved the claws digging into his skin and tearing his clothing, the angry curses and accusations of blasphemy, the teeth gnashing and biting along his sides, the snarls and moans he let out when Dave touched him. It was so animalistic, so raw, so…

Incredibly.

Fucking.

Sexy.

And then he went all-out troll on him. Oh no, the raging beast on top of him, looking finally like a monster and not some kid who decided to go out wearing stupid grey bodypaint wasn’t enough. He had to get even more alien than that.

He had to go and fetch the fucking bucket.

That wasn’t even enough. It couldn’t have just been as simple as putting it under the two of them and hoping for the best as they rutted desperately against each other. It seemed that Gamzee was very intent on using Dave to the greatest possible extent. With a deep growl, the troll wrenched Dave’s mouth open, shoving the handle of the bucket into his mouth. He uttered something in a voice that sounded to Dave like a rabid wolverine and a swarm of bees had had an angry, terrifying baby, and while he couldn’t understand _what the hell_ the words were supposed to mean, he knew he’d better hold that damn bucket pretty still unless he wanted beeverines ripping his stomach open.

The slap across Dave’s face told him that obviously he had lost his precious cool for a moment, cracking a smile over terrifying fauna. His glasses were knocked half off of his face, blood trickled from his nose, and all he could think was that he needed _more_ of it.

Harsh words and taunts were exchanged, and were ended by a sharp blow to the eye—oh _yes,_ that pain felt good. More…

But no, Gamzee was finished with that shit. No more of Strider’s horrendous games. He shoved the boy to his knees, pushed his jaw tightly shut around the handle, and pushed his trousers down past his hips.

Dave looked in awe, staring as he watched every fast, hard movement that Gamzee’s hand made. He felt desperate to do something, touch the troll, touch himself, _something,_ but Gamzee snarled if he moved any more than an inch.

Within moments, the first hot, sticky spatters of deep indigo cum were flying, falling into the metal pail and across Dave’s face. Dave simply stared, still longing for something, to do more than just sit there as a receptacle.

It was only after Gamzee ripped the pail from the boy’s mouth and stormed out of the room that Dave finally curled up into himself, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping as hard as he could.

Damn that Makara.


End file.
